Absurdum: An Alternate Continuity
by TakeshiKovacs987
Summary: Realism hurts. In the case of one Shinji Ikari, it really bites.
1. Part 1

**Part 1**

Strangely, I love carrots, but I hate peas. It's a random thought, I know, but I have to say it. The pile of steaming peas in front of me was taunting me. Green should not exist naturally in the human body, whether by ingestion or growth. I glanced to my right.

No one.

Now my left.

No one.

I looked everywhere except in front of me. Dad was probably giving me some sappy look. If I look now, I'll get some hour long lecture about good hygiene and how it's not healthy to avoid things just because I don't like it. He's always been like this, feeling that he has to make up for mom's absence by doing double parenting. Some Freudian shit.

I took refuge in how wonderfully bright my spoon was, observing how a brilliant glint peeked amidst the fluffy Jasmine rice.

"Shinji, how was your day?"

Peas and carrots? Not a perfect pair. If it was, then it just isn't meant to be for me. Perfect pairs aren't just limited to peas and carrots. I learned this life rule early and it only got worse after I met-

"Shinji?"

I almost looked up, but caught myself. Almost got caught in the guilt trap. Dad always had the beaten puppy voice down pat. I love Dad, but he can take the whole victim schtick too far. I hope it's not genetic. I refuse to become a victim. They get hurt. They can't fight back. And worse yet, they whined about the unfairness. I'm not a victim. I assert this again:

I.

Am.

Not.

A.

Victim.

* * *

"Hey."

I turned my head so quickly that I hurt my neck. That's how eager I was. "Hey."

She stopped short of me. We looked at each other. Silence loomed like an umbrella providing cool shade.

"I—um-I just wanted to say hi, so...hi," she ended lamely.

"Yeah, hi. Uh, so you see anything good last night?"

Her hazel eyes danced in amusement. "I don't watch much TV."

"Yeah...same." I lied. A rerun of Gundam Wing was on the other night, followed by another one, and then another. Let's just call it quits and deem it a marathon.

A smile peeked from the corner of her mouth, judging from the tiny dimple on her cheek. "I was just going to buy lunch."

"I don't trust food here. Unless it's prepackaged and untouched." I paused and realized how abrasively blunt that was. To my relief, her smile only shrunk by the smallest inflation of the dimple.

"That's an interesting thought. So you don't eat lunch?"

"I eat from the vending machines," I said airily, trying to pass off a devil-may-care attitude.

It didn't work.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Doesn't sound healthy."

"Neither does your option," I pointed out and then I was inspired. "Why don't you try it out?"

"Oh, uh I only have my meal card on me," she said tentatively. Probably not eager to try my health regimen.

"No problem, I'll pay." I nodded my head in the direction of the machines. I eagerly strode, half hoping that she would follow and half hoping she wouldn't. I had only one dollar on me. Mark ups on the food are ridiculously high.

I heard nothing but the chatter and shuffle of the students around me, ensconced in their own lives. I risked a peek at some random individuals, praying they wouldn't notice. They didn't. They hardly ever did. In that peek, I saw segregation. Not by race, but by life. Shared experiences were only similar experiences and they didn't know anything beyond that. Nothing of how much they held for each other, but didn't dare share in fear of disconnection or rejection.

I turned my gaze skyward and slowed down, hands in pockets. Experience. Something I lacked and longed for. But I wasn't likely to get it. That would imply being open to a connection. Since mom, I stopped my connections. My castle was erected and there was no one to invade my serfdom of one. Dad's siege has been going for five years now, but no such luck. My castle stood strong and well maintained, unmarred by any such thing as intimacy. And I was alone.

"Hey!"

My ears rang. "Huh?"

"I've been yelling for a while now. Anything the matter?"

She was back! I blinked in surprise.

A blush formed on her tan cheeks. "Don't look at me like that."

"Oh, uh, sorry." I didn't know that I was staring. "So..."

"The vending machine?"

"Yeah, right!" I walked with a little more bounce in my step. At least I think I did. Otherwise I just looked like I was drunk.

Five minutes and an in-depth investigation of sweet vs. salty foods later, she took my dollar and bought her chips.

"You eat this every day?"

"No, I often bring my own lunch," I lied.

"Okay." She took a bite of her chips and seemed satisfied. "Do you want one?"

"Sure."

It's funny to think of beginnings. All too often, they're mundane and commonplace, but as you look back, they only grow in importance as what comes from it steadily blooms into a truly meaningful...something.

My one started over a bag of Shrimp Chips.

* * *

The peas still mocked me to no end. I glared contemplatively at them.

"Son. Are you okay?"

"Fine, Dad," I said automatically.

"Oh, okay." I could see him in my mind, looking down at his plate with his head hung. Mom was always the more assertive of the two. What her disappearance did to him, I don't know. He didn't even try to date anyone else. Now that I think about it, I've never seen him do anything, but work on his latest housing project or mope at his computer. Other than me, he never tried to talk to anybody. Was it only because I was his son? Or was I the only tie he had to the wife he loved so dearly?

Another castle was built right under my nose. Like father, like son in a twisted way. When is the first brick laid down? I remember when it happened for me.

* * *

Chewing has always been an activity that nags at me. The jaw goes up and down, up and down. Never ending until the food has been pulverized. We can never take something as it is. We always have to force it into a shape that we want. I thought this as I watched Asuka ravage her bento. Her mom always did make the best ones.

"Are you going out with her again?" Asuka mumbled through her food. She was never all that concerned with manners around me for some reason. And oddly neither was I around her.

"Yeah, another date for Tuesday." I fumbled with my bag of Fritos.

"Oh." Asuka's chewing slowed.

She was holding back something. "Why do you ask?"

Asuka avoided my eyes. "I sa—it's nothing."

"What?" My Fritos would have to wait.

Asuka finally met my gaze and contemplated something for a moment before answering. "It's just I saw her going out with Kaworu a couple days ago."

I was shocked, but hid my reaction. I mean it's not like we were ever exclusive or anything. I know Kaworu. He's a good guy. Better than me in more than a few ways. "Oh."

"Are you okay, Shinji?" Asuka looked concerned.

"Yeah. We're allowed to date other people. It wasn't anything special." Was it?

Asuka brightened a little. "Okay. So have you asked anyone else out?"

I paused. "Yeah. Just asked a girl last week."

Lying is only helpful when you're lying to yourself.

* * *

"-And that's when I realized that she was special. I was just some nerd. And for some reason the star track athlete liked me. She towered over me by at least a foot, which," Dad laughed. "made it really awkward to...I'll tell you when you're older, but know who that girl was?"

Mom. Mom. Mom. He's told this story a thousand times already. But every night, he reminisces about her. At the same time, every night the wine inches closer to the rim of the glass.

"Your mom! I couldn't believe it. I just about lost my mind when _she_ asked _me_ out on a date!"

That did fascinate me. Mom was domineering and assertive, whereas Dad was...Dad. A more mismatched pair couldn't have been imagined. But like all things it didn't last. Especially when you judge by the burgeoning wine collection accumulating in the cellar. Even happy, stable relationships bring pain just like an uneven one.

* * *

_I know. I know. I'm late about a lot of stuff. Well, this is the life of an IB senior. Until the end of my college apps I can only offer some meager story like this. Pick up lines and Rising sun won't be updated until then. One week, I wrote this as an original story at first, but then I realized that this is actually something I would think of for an alternate reality sort of Shinji. This is a continuity where I figured Shinji to be the most mentally healthy. In between work, I was writing this to express some empathy for my bud, who unfortunately still can't get over an ex-girlfriend. This is a three parter, so stay tuned. I apologize to any of my readers who are disappointed in me. I just have way too much stuff on my plate these days. All I can say is that I'll get to it. Might not be soon, but I will. So don't sweat it. Also, don't forget to review. I am a growing writer in need of feedback!  
_


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

I watched carefully as Dad pours himself another healthy serving of bottled rotten grapes.

"Shinji," he slurred. "When a girl tells you that she loves you, she's lying the first time around."

I toyed with the last remnants of my carrots and fish (the peas remained untouched and unwanted). The topic came out of nowhere. Not wanting to ask, I stayed silent, trusting the alcohol to tell the rest.

"N-not on purpose, 'course." Dad paused to collect his thoughts and when he did speak again, the words came out smoother and more earnestly. "She doesn't know what love is at that point. You see, love is a different experience for everybody. Every time you fall in love, it becomes a little different. We don't realize that it's love until all the chords are played over and over again. All the same chords as last time, but in an entirely different pattern. This is why most relationships fall apart."

I gripped my fork tighter.

"Love changes, so does the song. Most...can't keep up with it. It took your mom and me some time to figure that out, but we got it in the end. Never left each other," Dad trailed off, contemplating his glass, now half empty.

For the first time in a long while, I looked directly at him. He looked so haggard and sad, glass in hand and eyes downcast. He hadn't shaven in months nor changed his clothes in days. I rubbed my own stubbly chin to mull over his words. Was I ever on the same song as her? Could I even hear it?

* * *

"Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars."

My fingers elegantly danced across the keyboard as Asuka enthralled the crowd. Her sweet voice gently wafted over the room, enveloping everybody in a warmth unseen, but never imposed. It seemed as though her very personality was palpable. I did question her song choice though. Frank Sinatra was amazingly popular in Japan, but it was still a little odd to be playing to a J-pop audience, but she made it work. Boy, did she make it work.

"You were all I longed for."

A feverish glee built in my chest. The rapt attention of the room manifested itself in a soft murmur of assent and resonance, creating a truly natural orchestra to accompany my piano and her voice. I didn't even want to look at the audience, wanting nothing more than to submerge myself in the music and the fey siren of her voice.

"—in other words, I love you..."

Before I knew it, it was over. As the last note trailed off into the air, I breathed out. The only thing I could hear was Asuka and that last lingering note. It was all I needed in that moment. I was content.

No, that was a lie. I wasn't content.

I was happy.

The crowd shuffled out, chattering loudly amongst themselves and ignoring what once amused them. Moving like ripples in a tide, they dispersed. I didn't care. The warmth was still there. I finally looked out at the band room. Someone was looking at me. I smiled, feeling as though she personally brought me to this euphoric sensation.

"Asuka."

"Not enough sleep last night?" Asuka said, pointing at the bags under my eyes.

"Yeah, I was on the phone until 2." I said with a satisfied smile. Life wasn't so bad. My castle had somehow gained a Lady.

"Oh." She knew with whom. "Idiot."

The conversation stumbled over itself, but under no circumstances did I want it to die. "That was a great show, Asuka."

She grinned. "Thanks, but I would've been sunk if you hadn't helped out."

"I was the only halfway decent pianist available." I shrugged. It was the obvious thing to do.

"Doesn't make it any less helpful," she said softly. "You settle too easily."

This was weird. She normally boasted about her singing ability and denied anyone else credit. Don't get me wrong, she gave it where it was, but this is why she normally did solos.

I always thought it odd that her singing was so powerful and soft, while her voice in life was so abrasive and veiled. However, now that I think about it in depth, I wouldn't have it any other way. Her songs were her true voice, not the fake tone she used in day to day life. Funny, she was between two perspectives. One contained the unique openness of a well seasoned, talented artist. The other possessed the brashness of an insecure teenage girl. It all clashed and yet the contrast only enhanced the overall portrait that was her personality.

I must have been looking at her longer than I thought because she averted her gaze and shuffled her feet as if embarrassed. Not likely though. Asuka was the type to take life by the horns, castrate it, and make it her bitch.

And not necessarily in that order.

"Hey guys," said a voice from behind me.

I turned around and it was my Lady.

"Sorry I missed it, Shinji. Student council meeting went on a little longer than I thought." She sidled to my arm. Her face was close to mine. I could smell wasabi peas on her breath. For some reason, she loved them. I didn't really get it, but I always tasted them when I kissed her. Gradually I grew to love it. "I hope I didn't disappoint you."

A brief smile passed my lips. "No, don't worry. My stuff wasn't anything special. Asuka on the other hand..."

Asuka offered a grateful smile. "Thanks, Shinji."

"So do you want catch a movie with us?" I asked Asuka. "We should celebrate this."

Asuka glanced to my left. "No thanks. I should get home. See you tomorrow, Shinji. Thanks for helping me out."

As Asuka walked away, my attention flickered between saying good bye and talking to the girl next to me.

"What do you want to do?"

She spared a look at the retreating figure of Asuka. "I don't know."

Dissonance suffused the air, creating a tension completely alien to her.

"Karaoke?"

She shrugged. If anything, she looked even more troubled. The gossamer thin connection I had was growing even thinner. Desperation and panic filled every part of me, but I hid it so she wouldn't be repelled by my clingy, selfish desires.

"There's a baseball game right now. We could always buy tickets from some scalpers." I joked in hopes that the infamous dimple made a reappearance, so it wouldn't be as tense as it was.

No such luck.

"Um, I think Kaworu's band is playing at the park tonight, we can go see them."

She stiffened and there was a sharp intake of breath. I forgot. She was dating him too. I turned a blind eye because I liked her more than I've liked anyone for the past five years even Dad. I liked talking to her. I liked touching her. I liked watching her. Not in a creepy way, but her reactio—...no, _she_ was fascinating. This was the only time I saw her tense like this. All the other times, she just laughed and smiled like normal as if she wasn't indecisive. As if she wasn't playing with two men who would be willing to do anything to keep her. As if loyalty was just a convenience to be put away in the name of experimentation.

Me? I had validation to date other people. I knew that some girls might have liked me. I was unhappy knowing that she was seeing other guys. But I didn't say anything. I didn't want to lose what I had. I had every reason and opportunity to date and no reason not to.

And yet I didn't.

I didn't want anybody else. Thinking this, I pressed a key on the piano to distract myself. Asuka really was great. Honestly, if I could play with her every night, I—

"Sure, why not?"

I shot her a surprised look. For a moment, it looked like she was going to make up an excuse, but apparently thought against it. She went to the bathroom right after I asked, not answering my question. She wasn't a great liar. Another thing I liked about her.

"Uh, 'kay." I glanced at my watch. "We'll catch the next train."

"Cool," she said eagerly.

Maybe too eagerly. I breathed faster to match my heartbeat. She wanted to see him. There was no other explanation. What did I care? I had everything I needed right now. If she saw someone else, it didn't bother me. I still wasn't lonely nor alone. And I never wanted to be again, not as long as she was there.

"Okay, let's go." She grinned and motioned for me to follow.

I moved to walk, but then I noticed the piano again. The sheet music for the song was still there.

I hesitated.

The sheet music wasn't all that important and it would've been a hassle to keep it in my pockets the whole night. I already had a copy on my computer since I got it from the internet. No reason to take it. None at all.

Only the muffled sound of the crowd outside could be heard. Until her voice pierced through the murmur like a—

"Shinji! Are you coming!"

"Yeah." I winced as a folded corner jabbed the inside of my pocket as I ran out.

* * *

The tiramisu tasted fine. Not terrible. Not great. Just fine. And you know what? I'm fine with that too because I didn't expect much. Euphoria is never on the menu when it comes to expectations. I learned that the most I can expect is contentment. And I think it's the same for others.

But there's always the odd few that always look for the next high. Some look for it in adventure. Some in hedonism. A rare few look for it in ambition. However, I've noticed that most go for substance abuse.

The bottle made a soft _clink_ as it was replaced. Dad licked his lips as he eagerly poured another glass. Lately, he's been more absentminded. I figured it was just work. For the last month, he was always on the phone or going out, presumably to meet suppliers. But he's been drinking a little more each day. Stress wasn't a factor. He was too good at his job.

What was it? What made him try so much? Was being with mom like euphoria? If so...was the shell of a man I saw before me just a junkie going through withdrawal?

No. Not even close.

If he was a junkie, then he would be latching onto the closest available woman, desperate for the next high. Dad has lived a chaste life for five years now. No contacts. No friends. No family save for myself.

He glanced at his watch with an inscrutable expression. "Have you ever gone to that bowling alley down on 2nd?"

"Uh, yeah," I replied, expecting another story about mom.

"Oh, good then." Dad sipped sedately.

I raised an eyebrow. What was that about?

Shaking my head slightly, I just took another bite of adequacy. Honestly, it was pretty good. Not perfect, but enough to satisfy the requirements of a dessert and my palate. For a moment, I briefly reflected on my use of an adjective to replace a proper noun. Then I took another bite and realized...

It was still apt.

"Super bomb, a-bomb, a-bomb!"

I nodded my head to the oddly harmonious fusion of techno and Balkan folk. Kaworu really was a talented musician. Honestly, a man who can make the accordion look sexy deserves some respect. A brush against my arm reminded me of who was standing next to me. I didn't look at her because I was afraid that if I looked, all my fears would be confirmed. I wished that I could hate Kaworu.

"Whoo! A-bomb, a-bomb!" She chanted next to me. Despite all my reservations, I looked.

The dimple was back and deeper than ever. She was happy.

I wasn't.

I wish to God I was. I wish I was the guy who would be happy if only she was. And I don't think I could ever be that person.

I was only the guy who had enough courtesy to not let jealousy show. Whether it was for her peace of mind or my vanity, it didn't matter. I still hated myself a little. As long as I kept watching her, I would feel this. And watching her is something that I can never really stop myself from doing.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," I murmured in her ear.

She absentmindedly nodded, not turning her head away from the stage. I hesitated before going, more than a little disappointed at the lack of interest in me. Was she really that unconcerned about me?

As I squeezed out of the mob, I yelped in pain as my hand brushed someone. My palms stung. Four tiny crescents of red marked both of my hands. Without knowing it, I'd been clenching my fists during the song. I grimaced as I flexed my hands to test the pain. Not bad, but I would need some bandages.

"Whatcha looking at?" said a voice over my shoulder.

"Huh, oh Asuka...uh nothing." I hid my hands in my pockets to avoid arousing her concern. "What are you doing here?"

Obvious question. Asuka was a music geek. And there was only one remotely talented group playing within a fifty foot radius.

My realization must have shown because she smirked a little. It wasn't smug. Just knowing in an annoyingly familiar way. Asuka shrugged. "It's not a school night. Homework's done. Nothing for band. I'm free tonight, so why not?"

'Why not?' I echoed in my head as I nodded. If there isn't a reason against something, is that enough justification to do it? Lately I've been asking myself more and more, but I don't know why. All I do know is that it's making feel unsettled every time I think of her.

"Uh, Shinji?" Someone was pinching my ear.

"Huh?" My ears rang. This felt familiar.

"You there? You kind of zoned out for a moment. Am I boring you?" Asuka grinned playfully.

"What? No. I just...saw somebody. Turns out it was nothing."

We both knew I was lying. "Mhm. So what are you hiding in your pockets?"

I froze for a moment. "Nothing."

"If it's nothing, why don't you take your hands out?"

My hands clenched momentarily inside the pockets. The pain reminded me that blood must be staining the insides of the pockets. At the same time, I was once again reminded of how compelling a lack of reason against doing something was.

A squeal met my ears and I sensed someone falling forwards in my peripheral vision. I immediately reacted to catch it. Impact met my stinging palms, but I was too busy looking at who it was.

"That's not funny, Asuka."

"Worked, didn't it?" she said with a triumphant smile, but it faded away as soon as she saw my hands. "God, Shinji. Did a dog bite you?"

"Yes, on both hands at the exact same angle," I said sarcastically, still annoyed at her.

"Whatever, we need to get you some band-aids." She dragged me to a convenience store across the street. I couldn't complain. I was already headed there. Might as well use some company.

The group centered around Kaworu's band were swaying to what was likely a very eclectic tune. As I absentmindedly bandaged my hands, I watched out of the corner of my eye, wishing that I was part of it. But here I stood. Lonely again.

"Wow, you're really out of it aren't you?"

And yet not alone.

"I guess I'm sleepier than I thought."

"I'll say." Asuka must have guessed that I was uncomfortable because she then said, "So, about that movie?"

"What movie?" I blinked, confused.

Asuka reddened faintly. "Uh, I thought you—n-never mind."

"Right! I asked—oh I forgot for a minute. You want to see one right now?" I glanced at my watch. It was 7:30. "Are there any good ones playing?"

"You asked first, I thought you knew."

I shrugged as she giggled a little. "Maybe we can just wing it?"

"I thought you were with..." Asuka trailed off.

"She's..." I glanced back at the crowd. Her eyes were trained on Kaworu. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they never left him to begin with. "...busy."

Loyalty is always an issue with me. To me the worst people are the ones who don't stay faithful.

"Oh, okay. Let me just call my dad and tell him I'll be out later since we're seeing a movie."

"Yeah. I've gotta make a call too." To voicemail in all likelihood. I expected that she wouldn't be able to hear her phone since she was in the center of the mob. It was good courtesy to just tell her...even if she couldn't hear. I waited as my cell connected to her cell. It's an odd word: cell. Having both meanings as a form of imprisonment and a hub of communication. Maybe in a way, the two are the same. A means to isolate and to connect.

Two rings.

Three rings.

A fourth and I'd be home free.

"Hello?"

Dammit.

"Hey..." I said awkwardly. "Uh...I'm with Asuka right now and we kind of...want to go to the movies."

"Asuka?" I could almost hear her frowning. "I thought she went home."

"Yeah, she went to see Kaworu's band like we did. She didn't really have anything to do tonight so..." I trailed off, not knowing what to do. I knew it was pretty cowardly of me to try and dodge any sort of awkward questions about me going with another girl to the movies. It's not something I'm not ashamed of. I've only known Asuka for a year now. "It's not like-"

We're going out.

My grip on the phone tightened. The scrape of the bandage against the plastic reminded me of Asuka's presence. I'm not lying. I'm not lying to her. And I'm especially not lying to myself.

"Hold on. Where are you?"

I glanced around to get a handle on where I was specifically.

Too late. She had already pushed her way out of the mob. I swallowed a lump in my throat. It slid slowly and increased in size as it went down.

Asuka noticed her approach and shot me a worried look mixed with accusation.

"Hey, Asuka."

Asuka just smiled nervously at her. She knew it was a good time to be courteous. Unlike me. I frankly wanted to sprint as far as I could. Maybe Hokkaido. No, that's not right. Okinawa is nicer this time of year.

She cleared her throat. "So what movie are you guys going to see?"

Asuka and I shared a laugh. "Uh, we don't know. I just saw Asuka here and she brought up the movie thing and...yeah."

I let out a short bark of laughter out of genuine amusement and nervousness. She looked at me with an inscrutable expression while Asuka shuffled her feet. Why was Asuka so skittish right now? This wasn't like her.

All that I could hear now was the pounding bass and the murmur of my heart.

She kept staring at me with that expression until she opened her mouth. "So...I, uh, I'm going to see the rest of the concert. I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun at the theater."

I blinked. What just happened? I felt more than a little disappointed, but at the same time I felt a surge of relief and joy. Paradox. I hated it. Nothing here was clear. Not like when I first talked to her, knowing what I wanted and what I didn't. I glanced at Asuka.

She was smiling a little. There wasn't a dimple like on my Lady's face. It was in her eyes and the soft upturned corners of her lips. It was...it was...

What did she look like? Before she left I could have sworn that I saw...

I can't do this. I can't do this to someone who's made me happy. Happier than I've been in six years.

"I'm really, really sorry. I'll make it up to you later, Asuka."

My suspicions were confirmed when I saw that same inscrutable expression mirrored on Asuka's face. She looked like she wanted to ask why, but one look at my face told her everything she needed to know.

"Oh, okay. Thanks anyways Shinji."

"No, it's my bad. I just...have to go. I'll make it up to you," I repeated honestly. Asuka only smiled in an attempt to placate my anxious backpedaling. I wish she hadn't.

As I watched Asuka shuffle toward her car, I clenched my fist. Once again the bandage made me think of her all the more intensely. I walked away with a bitter taste in my mouth, but melded back with the crowd.

It didn't take long to find my Lady again. She was the only one with tears in her eyes. I approached her from behind and wrapped my arms around her neck. In all the times I'd watched her, I never noticed how petite she was. I stayed that way for as long as she would allow me. Finally, she spoke.

"Thanks." Her oval face was upturned. I caught her lips like that and tasted salt.

"She's just a friend," I murmured softly, a faint stab of guilt in my heart. I was glad Asuka wasn't there to hear.

She smiled and turned around to face me before kissing me again. I don't know how long it lasted. I could only feel the softness of her lips and what remained of her tears. When I snapped back to reality, the song had ended. A new one started.

She took my hand and we walked away from the concert without so much as a backwards glance. The warm palm against mine reminded me of why I had fallen for her to begin with. I must've looked pretty stupid because I felt a dazed grin on my face then.

I was happy.

Or at least for a minute. At that moment I also spotted Asuka sitting in her car. The engine was still rumbling, but her hands weren't even on the wheel. She was still looking at the crowd, probably thinking we were still in there. Her face turned away from my line of sight, but I'm not sure that I wanted to see.

Did I only exchange one set of tears for another?

I look down at the top of my Lady's head. She tried to cover it up, but I was certain. She was looking at the stage again.

She was never any good at lying.

I loved that about her...but at that moment, I wished that I didn't.

* * *

A/N: As you can see, I will never ever say the name of our mystery heartbreaker. And that's the point. Most of this is just playing with perspective. Conclusion is in the third part.


	3. Part 3

**Part 3**

Dinner was long since done. I had already cleaned all the plates and put away the leftovers. Well, except for the peas. They were still on the table. I stared at them briefly before bringing my attention on Dad again.

"Nibblin' on sponge cake" he murmured to himself, as he traced the rim of his glass.

He'd been going on like this for the past twenty minutes with rendition after rendition of Jimmy Buffett. After that whole exchange about the bowling alley, he seemed to embrace the bottle with even more gusto.

"Smell those shrimp; they're beginning to boil." Dad took a breath. "Wasting away again in Margaritaville."

I'd never thought that the day would come when I actually pitied my own father. I hoped it would never come. That I could continue seeing him as something more than human. When in reality, he was just a guy like any other. Like me. And that's what was most troubling of all.

"Some people claim that there's a woman to blame, but I know it's my own damn fault." Dad mumbled as he lifted his arm to take another sip. His watch glinted in the light.

Hang on.

That wasn't his normal watch.

* * *

"—and so clearly Spiderman would make a terrible economist."

I chewed on both his statement and my sandwich. "Are you still going on about 'One More Day'?"

"Come on!" Kensuke exclaimed. "He _sold_ his marriage to the fucking _devil!_ How lame is that?"

"It was a semi-plausible ending. It worked, what else can we ask for?" I shrugged. My mood wasn't exactly these days.

"That's the problem with you, Shinji. You're too quick to settle. I mean, sure it worked, but they could have done so much more. Like Peter could have let Aunt May die thus showing his acceptance of the inevitable and the consequences of his actions. Character development!"

Once again, I shrugged. It really wasn't a big deal. Admittedly the writers of Spiderman really derailed the whole thing, but when the Civil War story arc was introduced...I really need to stop reading comics. Kensuke is an unrepentant fan though. Something that I thought to be odd since he was the type to go for high lofty novelists like Garcia-Marquez or Nabokov. Myself? I've always been partial to Judy Blume.

"What's done is done. Reboots can be done if necessary, so relax Ken-chan" I nettled.

"It's Kensuke," he said flatly. "Kensuke."

Kensuke never liked his nickname. He loved it as a kid, but now...he just doesn't anymore. Why? I honestly don't know. He's never explained it. I have my theories though. "Fine, fine."

"Anyways, we should hold Marvel up to a higher standard of quality here. I mean look at DC. They actually pulled off bringing in every character in their universe and creating a great story. This is why I prefer DC comics. Superman was my first hero when Dad bought—"

He broke off. I didn't question it. I knew what he was thinking about.

"How's your mom?" I asked.

"Good. She keeps saying that I should get a girlfriend like you." Kensuke chuckled.

"I don't have a girlfriend." Not anymore.

"Mm." Likewise, I think he knew what I was thinking about. We both respected each other's self imposed distances.

A lull.

It wasn't an awkward lull. Just a lull. With a girl, you don't want the conversation to just end because it feels like you need to fill the air or else she won't think you're an interesting person. With a friend, you don't feel like that. I took the time to reflect on my former Lady. Did I even have a girlfriend to begin with?

Her definition was definitely at odds with mine. And she actually called me emotionally unattached. At what moment was I not involved? If anything she was.

"Hey guys."

I looked behind me.

Asuka.

"Hey, Asuka," Kensuke mumbled from his food. His yakisoba bread was vending machine bought. I stopped using the machines in favor of a homemade lunch. I glanced at my sandwich. It was made by her.

I smiled nervously. "Hey, how's...life?"

God, that's lame. Nobody asks that question unless they're all out of interesting things to say. From the look on Asuka's face, she knew that too.

"Okay," Asuka said as she sat down. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Comic books."

Asuka stared at Kensuke for a moment, not sparing me one glance. I hated it. I knew she didn't like him in that way, but it still—

"Shinji, you agree?"

Hm?

Kensuke looked at me searchingly. "About Spider man?"

"Oh, uh no, not really."

"What?" Kensuke looked scandalized.

"Well, the way I see it. It _was_ a fair trade." I hid an amused smirk as Kensuke's eyes bulged.

"To trade his one chance at happiness?"

"Spider man will never be happy. His life is simply too complicated for something like a family or an ordinary relationship. If he continued to be with Mary Jane, then he would have been wracked with guilt his entire life. Don't talk to me about character development. When a man loses a woman he loves...something happens. In this trade, Peter doesn't know about Mary Jane as deeply as he would have. But in any reality, Aunt May is...Can't miss what you never had, I guess, is what I'm saying." I had no idea how much that idea resonated in me.

"That's pretty depressing."

It wasn't Kensuke who said that. This was the first time in days that she's spoken directly to me. "I mean. Yeah, you can't miss what you never had, but isn't it even worse to have never experienced what could have been? I mean Spider man is only a man in the end. Every writer has made that perfectly clear. He'll die one day and if all he has to show for all his work is the grudging respect and resentment of strangers, then can anyone say he's actually lived? As a human being?"

I blinked. "I...didn't know that you read comics."

Asuka shrugged, but a faint tinge of pink could be seen on her cheeks. "My dad lived in America for a while. He...likes reading comic books."

"Oh." I'm not lying when I say that I was surprised. Asuka was a musician and frankly a very attractive girl. Finding out that a very pretty girl likes comic books was as surprising as walking in on someone trying to snort a ground up Pocky stick. It might be possible, but the initial response is that you assume that one of you must be on drugs. "But I still say that if you don't _know_ something, then how could you possibly feel anything about it?"

Her eyes sharpened. "How could you _not_ feel anything about it?"

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a red flag was raised.

"It's irrational though. It's impossible to feel something about the unknown other than curiosity."

"Emotion is hardly ever rational," Asuka said intensely.

Why was she getting so into it? This was just a talk about comics.

"Sure, but you know, emotion has to come from somewhere. There has to be something behind it," I said. Asuka looked oddly intense and a little...frustrated?

"What if he was just going to be more depressed from the fact that he's missing something in his life? That's a huge cause of depression: knowing the path less taken and always thinking about it. He might end up unhappier than ever staying with Aunt May. I'm sorry, but leaving his aunt is the best thing he could do. Eventually they will leave each other soon. She's the old part of his life. It's obvious that it's her time and they both need to move on. He has to leave her."

Her. I don't know why this word stood out. "But his aunt is all that binds him to his past. The very reason he got into being a hero and what remains of his family."

"But he could find something new. _Someone_ new." Asuka stared at me with the same expression I saw two weeks ago at the concert. "Mary Jane is his future. As much as Aunt May was a part of him, there is a time where he has to leave."

I fell silent, not knowing what to say. I only had the eerie feeling that she wasn't speaking about the comic now. I had no idea what she was talking about though.

"Whoa, look at that. Lunch is over," Kensuke said awkwardly. "So we should, uh, get back to class now. Yeah...so let's go."

I nodded and said good bye to Asuka. She didn't look at me. I didn't expect her to, but when I looked back to see her go, her red hair quickly flicked to the side as though...

"Shinji, you're pouring juice on yourself."

I thought I felt something cold. Maybe it wasn't Asuka's demeanor at all. It was just the drink. It'd have to be, right?

"Hang on, let me find my handkerchief." Kensuke said.

Immediately something was thrown in my face. It was a handkerchief.

"Thanks, man" I said a little caustically.

"That wasn't me."

It was Asuka. I saw a flash of red hair out from the corner of the door. It was gone now, but it was obvious that it was her. Why did she—Man, I'm asking a lot of 'whys' these days and never getting enough answers.

Well, maybe if I got some damn answers, I could actually stop asking so much. The scar on my hands itched a little as I gripped my desk, resolving to talk to Asuka.

* * *

Dad slouched in his seat. I locked the wine cellar before he could retrieve a third bottle. I could see the outline of the watch in his pocket. He'd put it in there after I asked, dismissing it as a gift.

From who though? Like I said, Dad never left home except to do work and shop for groceries. Unless he was hitting on that octogenarian who ran the store. What was his name again? It was something foreign. Um Mr. Kiel? Yeah. With the wrinkled second forehead and weird glasses...

Okay, bad mental image. Still, I had to wonder what was going on. Dad was like me. It was only when he met mom that he actually opened up to...well, anybody. I hoped that my Lady would be—

"Do you hate me, Shinji?"

"What? No. I don't hate you." I pitied him.

Dad chuckled. An edge of hysteria could be detected. "No...I didn't think that either."

What was up with him? "Dad, I know we don't talk much, but you know that I'm there for you."

I sounded sappy. My natural adolescent cynicism scolded me for revealing anything above apathy to any adult figure. However, the part of me brought up by mom praised me for being so mature.

Once again, Dad chuckled. The hysteria increased a notch. "I guess what I mean to ask is...should you hate me?"

For what?

"I've been thinking about someone."

Mom, of course. You've been obsessing about her even after she died.

"I met her at the funeral."

What?

He looked at my face and saw it all. I don't know how, but he did.

* * *

I wish I hadn't walked past the theater that day. I wish I hadn't taken her to that concert. I wish I never even had the courage to talk to her about vending machines.

"Kaworu," she giggled.

I never thought that I'd hate hearing her laugh. But I did. I never thought I'd ever be filled with so much hatred. It poured into me. Every organ. Every nerve. Every muscle in my body was tight with...I don't what anymore. It was beyond any emotion to be summed up in a few measly words. All I knew was that I both wanted to run away and beg on hands and knees for her to stop seeing him. I wanted to scream at her. Shake her and tell her that I never wanted to see her again.

At the same time I wanted to go into a corner and cry about her.

She must have sensed this because at that moment she turned and saw me. Her eyes widened and I felt my heart simultaneously soar and drop to the very bottom of my shoes. Before I knew it I was taken to an alley next to the theater and facing her beautiful hazel eyes for I knew even then to be the last time.

"You're seeing Kaworu." My voice came out flat. I felt so detached. I needed to be detached to keep my castle up.

"Shinji...I can't be with someone who isn't even all that interested in me. Who's interested in someone else."

I didn't think it possible, but I felt even more hatred in my veins. There was so much that it threatened to burn me from the inside out. An acid ripping me apart. I wasn't interested? What the hell have I been doing for six months then? And what did she mean someone else?

"I'll always still..."

I'll never know what she said. Care about me? Be friends? Love me? No. What I had wasn't love. When an emotion isn't returned, all it ever was...all it ever could be is just fantasy.

"It's fine." I interrupted. I was lying, but this time I was lying to myself. I didn't bother listening to her anymore. She was someone I...no. No she wasn't. Right then and there, I realized my father and I are different. I latched onto her, expecting some immediate emotional relief. Even before, I looked everywhere for some sort of connection to distract myself.

I was an addict.

"I'm really sorry, Shinji. I hope we can—"

I had already walked away. I wasn't important to her...and I'm not quite so sure that she was ever important to me in a truly deep and meaningful way. It was all so...dissonant.

Apophenia. I saw a real relationship. A real pattern. A real song. Where there was none.

The thing I hated about her was that she couldn't tell when I was lying. I could always tell when she was, but that's because I was so well practiced. Odd thing was that I could never lie to Asuka. I'd try, but she'd either always know or I just felt like—

"It's 900 yen, sir."

"900? Wow," I muttered as I pulled out my wallet. Overpriced, but I needed a distraction. Going home would be even more depressing since Dad would be wallowing too.

I sat in the theater, knowing that they had already left. A movie would take my mind off things, right?

Not really. Not when you're watching something like Taxi Driver. What really disturbs me is how well I could relate to the main character, who is an utter sociopath with absolutely no social skills. Case in point, he brought a girl to a porno theater for a date. I can't really complain since I did buy a girl vending machine lunch.

_"Loneliness has followed me my whole life. Everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There's no escape. I am God's lonely man."_

_._..like I said, really disturbing. I'm surprised this is playing in a Japanese theater. We tend to go for more campy stuff. I mean our anime can be a little over the top or way past its lifespan, like Transformers. I never saw why Americans loved it. I mean let's face it, vehicles turning into robots? It's not only impractical it's also physically impossible. Come to think of it, giant robots in general are pretty impractical too. And the first show about it was in the 1970s, an era famous for drug usage. It does explain a lot.

I mean what kind of weirdos would make a series about giant robots?

I walked out of the theater more than a little crestfallen. As I pushed my hands into my pockets, I felt something jab into my palm. It was sheet music. I blinked, utterly surprised. I had forgotten about it.

Fly me to the moon. A song not even written by the man who made it famous. It seemed odd that the original of something wasn't as great as its successor. I know it's an appeal to tradition, but to me a lot of the classics are better than what we churn out today. But here it was.

Proven wrong by this one example. Something new could be better than its predecessor.

* * *

Naoko Akagi. I met her at the funeral too. She was an old college friend of mom's. And now apparently a very good friend of Dad's. Very good.

"I talked to her on a regular basis later on. A few months in between at first and then I started talking to every day." Dad looked like a murderer confessing to a priest. "And...it got better."

"But what about mom?" I demanded. This was such a shock to me. Dad loved mom more than life itself. What changed this?

"Yui...your mother was special to me. Beyond that. She brought me out of a life of unhappiness and showed me what it meant to be loved. Not the fake affection that most pretend to have when they first say they love you...but she's gone now."

"But I've never seen you do anything other than work." When did you find the time to talk to her?

"Email mostly. She keeps inviting me out."

Keeps. Present tense. "To where?"

Dad seemed to ignore the question. "She mostly talked to me and got to know me those first couple of years. I got to know her in return. I didn't really want to at first. I avoided her. I tried calling her names. I tried hating her...I couldn't."

Why was he telling me this now? "To where?"

Dad only looked at me as though it should have been obvious. And it was, but I didn't want to acknowledge it because it would mean that I was just blind. Too self absorbed to notice anything beyond myself and possessing the arrogance to think I did know it all.

All the hints were there.

* * *

"Asuka! Wait up."

She continued putting on her shoes, but at twice the speed now. Her foot struggled to slip into the shoe. She tried even harder and ended up tripping over. I ran to catch her.

Feeling the familiar weight in my arms again, I said, "Whoa, you okay?"

Asuka wordlessly shoved me away and stormed out. Ignoring all Japanese stigma about cleanliness, I didn't bother changing my shoes, choosing instead to run after her. "Asuka!"

That only made her walk even faster. Eventually I caught up with her and decided to just walk a little behind her until she would talk to me out of her volition. I took the time to watch how her red hair moved side to side with each step.

Huh. That's odd. She had hair clips. When I first met her, she kept her hair unbound for months. What changed?

"Shinji...how long are you going to follow me?" Asuka said quietly, still walking.

"Until you turn and talk to me."

She only kept walking...but then to my surprise she continued the conversation. "About what?"

Good question. Now that the moment was here, I didn't know what I wanted to ask either, so I blurted the first thing on my mind.

"Thanks for the handkerchief."

"You followed me for half an hour for this?"

"Um...yes?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

Damn it. Why did Asuka have to be smart? "Uh..."

"Don't follow me anymore," she said tersely.

I clenched my fists. "I kept the sheet music."

Asuka turned around with an bewildered expression, but did I also detect a hint of...hope? "What?"

I stopped just two feet from her. "I...kept 'Fly me to the moon'."

She stared at me for a moment with the same inscrutable expression I saw on that night. I looked back at her. "Um...Shinji...I know that...I've been a little distant."

That's a word for it.

"But I...all I—I guess what I'm saying is I'm sorry."

Relief flooded my senses. My posture sagged little as an unknown burden lifted a little off my shoulders. "There's nothing to apologize for, Asuka. If anything I should, I was a jerk to you that night."

Asuka only smiled with her eyes again and shook her head disbelievingly. "You settle too easily, Shinji."

Why do people keep saying this to me? "What do you mean by that?"

Her eyes danced in amusement. "I mean you keep underestimating yourself and thinking that you're culpable for everything since you're not worth anybody's time. You're not."

Did I think that? I couldn't provide a counterexample. There was no reductio ad absurdum waiting for me. I guess...I did think that. "Um...thanks."

"It's not 'thanks', dummy. You don't thank someone for confirming what you already know."

We laughed and it was then I realized how close I was to her. I could feel the breath from her laughing on my lips. She must have realized it too and stopped as I did. However, she didn't make one step back. Neither did I for reasons unknown to me. It looked like for a moment that she was leaning in as though she was going to...

Nah. No way. Not Asuka.

We stayed like that for what felt like an hour, but it was only a minute. And then I stepped back. By accident, I think. But regardless the moment was broken.

Asuka kept that smile on her face. "Shinji.."

"Yeah?"

From her sober demeanor and pink cheeks, it looked as though she looked were about to tell me some big embarrassing secret for a moment, but that must have been my imagination because she straightened up immediately. "I hear that the new Transformers movie is out...the Americans are supposed to have done some awesome special effects on it. I was planning on watching it tomorrow night. Do you want to come with?"

"Uh..." I didn't have a response. The tables had turned here.

Asuka uncharacteristically blushed and quickly said,"It's fine if you don't want to."

"No. I just have to look after my Dad tomorrow night. He usually binges more than usual on Friday nights. I'll try to—"

"No! Go look to your Dad. I was just asking. I don't want to pressure you or anything."

"Not at all, I—" I realized how close we were to each other again.

We both fell silent, avoiding each other's gaze.

"I'll give you a call if I can."

"Sure...um seeya Shinji."

I looked up. She was gone and I felt really awkward.

To rid myself of any feelings, I decided to go to Kensuke's house, where feeling was utterly unnecessary when debating comic books or just plain studying. Unfortunately, I didn't prepare myself for what I just walked in on.

"Toji...what the hell are you doing?"

"Studying."

"And you're trying to do that by snorting...a biscuit?"

"Pocky actually," Kensuke interjected.

There was only one appropriate response to this. "Kensuke, you haven't dosed the brownies again, have you?"

Kensuke looked offended. "Of course not. Ever since that PTA meeting, I've been on probation from the chemistry lab. I swear get one old guy naked and hallucinating. It wasn't even all that bad. He only...tried to give oral sex to a cocktail weenie..."

Kensuke paused awkwardly. For my part, I sided with the PTA. It was sweet old Mr. Kiel. Well, maybe not so sweet. Dad told me in loving description about what happened. Apparently, Mr. Kiel kept moaning some name. Who the hell is 'Adam' anyways? And why would he want to pierce him with his 'lance'? "Then why..."

"There's a myth that a certain production line of Pocky holds the same properties as Adderall. They were made in the same factory," Kensuke explained upon seeing my blank face.

"And you encouraged this?" I pointed at Toji who was currently trying to grind it up even more to fit in the straw.

Kensuke shrugged. "I'm bored. And it really couldn't hurt his IQ."

I rolled my eyes. "Toji are you really going along with this?"

"Nah. I just wanted to see how far Kensuke was willing to take it." Toji shrugged.

I knew he wasn't that stupid. Kensuke on the other hand looked scandalized. "What!"

Toji ignored Kensuke's surprise and gave me a suspicious look. "What's up? You look kind of...shocked."

Did I? "No, not really."

"What happened, man?"

It was safe to tell them, right? "Asuka was acting kind of...weird."

"Well she likes you doesn't she?" Kensuke said, still shocked that Toji managed to fool him into thinking that he was that stupid.

I blinked. "What?"

Kensuke went out of shock as soon as the word exited my lips. "I-I mean, uh"

He turned to look at Toji. "Th-tha-"

"What Kensuke means is that—uh, that—" Toji stuttered.

"She likes me?"

"Um...no?"

"I can't go out with her," I said resolutely.

Both of them looked shocked. "What? Why not?"

They seemed to abandon all pretense.

"I just broke up with someone. I can't just...move on like that."

"She did," Toji pointed out.

"Because an eye for an eye makes for good policy in a relationship," I said caustically.

"You have a girl who likes you and only you. And you like her."

I opened my mouth to object, but realized he wasn't wrong. I did like her. There was no denying it especially after what happened just half an hour ago. There was nothing to really stop me. Once again, a lack of reason is still compelling. No reason to prevent me from doing anything.

* * *

I was glad for Dad. I really was. Mom wouldn't have wanted him to mope in bottle after bottle of wine. She loved him too much for that. Unfortunately Dad didn't quite believe in that.

"In other words, hold me—"

He was still singing songs. It was nice to know that he was a fun drunk. He was sober and serious in real life that it was a nice duality just like Asuka's—

Right, she was going to the movies tonight. I had to put it out of my mind for now.

"Dad, it's time to go to bed." Before the neighbors call about excess noise here.

I steered him toward his bedroom, him still (badly) bellowing the tunes of Sinatra. He plunked right onto the bed and mumbled, "Good night, Shinji."

"Good night, Dad...you know...I don't mind if you're seeing someone else. And I don't think mom would either."

He was silent. I turned to leave when I heard him speak again.

"Are you going out tonight?"

I was about to say no when I remembered Asuka again. I wanted to say no, but at the same time my heart wasn't going to allow me to. I already proved that there was absolutely no reason for me to stay with my former Lady. And nothing to prevent me from going to Asuka even in the beginning.

"Shinji?"

"Hm?"

"Well are you?"

I just walked away, telling him to go to bed. I sat heavily back at the table, thinking I'd just do some homework. The peas were still there. After a moment's hesitation, I picked it up and ate one. I can't remember why I started hating them. It tasted sweet, but fleetingly brief. A smile forcefully made its way onto my face. Opening the trash bin, I grabbed the cold bowl of peas and poured it in. I stared at the peas in the trash for a while before closing the lid. It was the last time I would ever taste a pea ever again.

I pulled my phone out and dialed. My heartbeat punctuated every ring.

Click. "Hello?"

"Hey Asuka, does your offer still stand?"

* * *

A/N: This is the part where your imagination fills the gaps. I'm no literary dictator. Now please click that review button and shoot me a word about any bones you got to settle about this (or ego stroking, I loves to be stroked...that didn't come out right). Sorry if the anachronistic order is confusing. It all serves a purpose. Just trust me on that. Thanks for making the trek of my story and I'll see you come January. Till then, good night.


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